


But You Call Me Thor

by daviderl



Category: Thor - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 17:28:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10223402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daviderl/pseuds/daviderl
Summary: Thor's first visit to Earth from Asgard, at the end of the last Ice Age, and lives with a tribe of bison and mammoth hunters.





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains graphic descriptions of Thor and Langa having sex.

**But You Call Me Thor**

 

**Introduction**

 

My name is Thorodinsonjordson (Thor.odin.son.jord.son). But you call me Thor.

My father's name is Odinborrsonbestlason (Odin.borr.son.bestla.son). But you call him Odin.

And my mother's name is Jordnóttdaughteranarrdaughter (Jord.nótt.daughter.anarr.daughter). But you call her Jord (or Yord).

(Our names are not exactly what I just told you. They are translated into English from my language. And while they may look strange, they are not so far from Joejohnson – Joe.John.son.)

We are not from this earth, as you might have guessed, but from a distant world you know as Asgardofthenineworlds (Asgard.of.the.nine.worlds). Six of us came here on an exploratory visit (one of many such explorations of many worlds) thousands of years ago. But when it was time to leave, I decided I wanted to stay. Humanity had long taken its first steps out of the continent known as Africa, and had spread outward into new lands. And I was curious to see how they would develop. I wanted to observe the various civilizations that would develop, and to see if they would flourish in light of the fact that the entire northern hemisphere was in the grip of the latest (and last) Ice Age.

So, against my companions' wishes and advice, I decided to remain, mostly to watch. But if necessary, occasionally helping out in times of disaster, or other small life threatening events. (And no, I never used my abilities to fight in any wars, regardless of who was in the wrong, because many technological advances occur during times of war.)

And yes, I do have the fabled hammer, named Mjölnir by the Vikings (who I lived with for a time). And its powers are much as depicted in mythology (also in modern-day comic books and movies).

When deciding to stay, I realized I should have some kind of tool or weapon “just in case”. And I decided a hammer of some form would be the most useful. The hammer, when first created, was a luminous whitish color, similar to milk glass, but I changed its appearance to look more like a human tool, with a gray, metallic head, a wood-colored handle, and a leather-looking strap.

The handle is the connection I have with the hammer. Much like that between a smart phone and the Blue-tooth earpiece, my mind is connected to the “transceiver” located within the handle which allows me to control it. It is the head that contains the majority of the technology that makes it work. But the science behind its powers are at least a thousand years ahead of today's science. Its source of power is a radioactive metallic ball, about the size of golf ball, that will last 100,000 years. The metal is not found on earth, since it was artificially created.

In order to create mini-earthquakes, and shock waves, when slammed to the ground, or to allow me to fly, the hammer contains a miniature, but very powerful gravity/anti-gravity generator. And when I want it to come to me, I only have to hold out my hand and it senses where I am and immediately flies to me. I also can control its speed – as slow as that of a walking man to over a hundred thousand miles per hour.

It also contains what you might think of as a battery that can absorb the ever present free electrons in the atmosphere, and then release them at my discretion. The hammer can produce an electrical discharge similar to a lightning strike, anywhere from fifteen to one hundred million volts; whatever is needed. Of course I can control just how much is expelled, from being able to light a match to completely destroying something on the order of a full grown Sequoia, the most massive tree that ever lived. And I also am able to control the sound – the thunderbolt, from almost silent, to the loudest sound ever created (excluding a nuclear explosion – which, by the way, is the only thing that can destroy the hammer).

Not only being long-lived, I also am immune to illnesses and, for the most part, invulnerable to physical damage. During the Middle Ages I was struck with a lance by a charging, mounted knight, and the tip penetrated my upper chest near my shoulder about three inches (which hurt like hell!). But as soon as it was removed, healing took only seconds.

Modern day weapons – large caliber machine guns, RPGs, and such, can do far more damage to me, but not to the point of actually killing me. But the recovery time can take days rather than seconds.

And so, I have been lived on this planet, off and on, for many thousands of years. The following narrative describes the first of the many adventures and events with various peoples I have encountered.

 

 


	2. 1

**The Tribe of Hunters**

  **1**

 When we seven first arrived here, we came to the south of the planet. The northern hemisphere was covered with sheets of ice almost a third of the way toward the equator. The southern part of the planet, mostly ocean, didn't have the extensive ice coverage as the north did. So we started at the south pole and made spiraling orbits, gradually making our way northward. It wasn't until we were well north of the equator did we find signs of human life. As we studied it, we realized there were two distinctively different races. One was what is now called the Neanderthals, and the other akin to modern humans. And while there was some interaction, and even cross breeding, for the most part they stayed apart.

(And contrary to modern thought, Neanderthals were not the slow, brutish, ape-like creatures so often depicted.)

And since it was obvious the Neanderthals were less likely to survive than the more technologically advanced homo sapiens, when I decided to stay on Earth, it was with the humans I was going to be with (plus, the fact that with their sloping skulls and larger jaws, I looked nothing like the Neanderthals, and would be unacceptable to them).

After my companions reluctantly left, with instructions to contact Heimdallr whenever I decided to return to my home planet (using the hammer, of course – another one of its powers), and after some time of observation, I decided to join a group, tribe, whatever the name, of humans who lived forty or fifty miles south of a five-mile high glacier in what later would become northern France.

It wasn't hard to make myself look as they did – dressing in furs and pelts, and carrying a flint-tipped spear and several flint knives. I decided the best way to join them was to bribe them with food. It was late summer and winter was fast approaching, and more fresh meat would be a welcome addition to their stores of dried and smoked bison, antelope, horses, and the woolly mammoths.

Using my hammer I killed a half-grown Irish elk, about 700 pounds, then used the spear to penetrate the chest to the heart, making it appear as if I had killed it with the spear. I then using rawhide rope, I strapped it to two long saplings as a makeshift, human travois. I wasn't sure if they used them, but I figured it couldn't hurt to help out a bit with a new idea. I could have carried it on my shoulder with ease, since my strength is about ten to fifteen times that of a human. But then I wouldn't have been able to “blend in.”

Using the travois, I believed any healthy man could have transported a 700 pound animal, so when I came into sight of the camp of the people I intended to join, I hoped it wasn't that unusual. What was unusual was that I was there at all – a single individual, alone, and dragging a dead animal behind me. And, by the way, I left my hammer buried under a pile of rocks and boulders about a mile away.

The camp totaled ten adult males and eight females, and six infants and children of various ages and sexes. And when they saw me, the women and children hurried to get behind the men, who brought out spears and warily watched me approach, in case I might be an evil spirit trying to win my way into their midst with a gift of food. (Another “power” I have is the ability to understand and speak any language after only a short time of hearing it, and I had been watching them for several days.) I decided to speak their language brokenly, as if I only had a rudimentary knowledge of it.

When I was about twenty yards from them, I stopped and raised one hand. “Greetings,” I said, sounding as if I were nearly exhausted. “Need shelter. Trade for food.”

I then explained to them, brokenly, that the I had been hunting with several men, but we separated to try to find prey. And after I made my kill, I couldn't find them, and was still searching when I got to their camp.

It was less than two hours until sunset, and even though it was still in the mid 40s F. (getting about 50° during the day - balmy for this location and time of year), the nights would see the temperature drop to near zero. And even though they were suspicious of me, they also knew I would surely die with no shelter. And welcoming the fresh meat, I was allowed to stay the night, which eventually turned into the entire winter – about 5 months.

Once I was relieved of the elk and the butchering began, the leader of the tribe began the introductions, starting with my name. Of course I told him 'Thor'. He said his name was Ivorson (son of Ivor). On one side of him was his mate, Avila. On the other side was what only could have been the medicine man, who was only known as Healer. His face was painted, he had tattoos on his neck, and he was adorned with shells and the teeth of prey animals. The hide of a wild boar comprised his only clothes. Eventually, over the next few days, I was introduced to all of them. The men averaged five foot 9 or 10 inches, and the women about five foot 5 or 6. I am five foot 10 inches inches.

It didn't take long before the elk was almost bare bones. Everything was used, including most of the bones, which contained fat-rich marrow, as well as the hide, the meat, tendons and ligaments, the internal organs and even the brain. Almost everything had a use.

Their home was situated on the top of a small rise next to a flood plain. There was a small stream eight feet across about 40 yards away that froze over in the winter, but in the spring, with the thawing of the snow, it became a raging river. In the meantime, it was a convenient source of water. They had chosen the location just for that reason.

Their home, or lodge, was tent-like made almost entirely of mammoth hide. It was shaped like a cone cut in half longways. The opening was about ten feet across and ten feet tall, but it was almost thirty feet long, tapering down toward the rear end. The internal structure was 90% mammoth bone, with very little wood (the nearest stand of useful trees was almost two days away). The open end faced south, and the tapered shape gave it stability against the harsh north-blowing winds. As I was to later find out, the covering was made of two layers of mammoth hides sewn together with the hair sides inward – almost six inches of insulation, and formed a waterproof outer covering and a smooth inner layer. A similar arrangement was used to cover the open end, and could be tied with cordage of hide to keep it closed. The bottom of the lodge was about three feet below grade and the outside had been covered with rocks then soaked with water to form stone hard ice to keep it from blowing away.

There was an opening above the communal fire to allow smoke to escape, but could be closed if the winds got to be too much. The six families each had their own places where they slept and kept their belongings. The rearmost section was where the food was kept: dried greens, herbs and grains, smoked and dried meats, and hides. The temperature there usually stayed five or ten degrees above freezing – cold storage.

Since I was a stranger, I was shown to a place halfway back, away from the fire, but warm enough. There already were furs left on a raised bed, to keep people off the ground. After Ivorson showed me where to stay, I couldn't help but overhear a somewhat heated conversation (my hearing is three or four times as good as theirs) if I should be there. Turns out, the last person to use it was killed during a bison hunt, and it was considered bad luck for someone to sleep there for a few months (moons) afterward, but I wasn't sure if it meant bad luck for me or for the tribe. Eventually Ivorson had his way.

The butchering was done by sunset and everyone was inside and the front cover flap was closed and secured. Most of the meat was being smoked over the communal fire, but some was being cooked for supper. When it was ready, Ivorson brought over my share – part of the liver and and rear haunch, since I was the one who provided the food. But he didn't stay long enough but to state his appreciation, and I got the impression that come the morning I would be expected to go my way.

But during the night a late autumn storm blew up, which lasted two more days, which I why I ended up staying longer that they had planned. After eating, I lay down on the bed, staying as invisible as I could. Soon I was mostly forgotten and everyone went on with their usual activities. As I lay there, listening to the various conversations, I learned quite a bit about them. Except for one woman, named Langa.

 She seemed to be part of the family headed by Tionson. (All males are named after their fathers, and have “son” tacked onto the end. When a son is born, the father's “son” is removed from his name and given to the son. So when Tionson has a son, he will be called simply Tion, and his son will be Tionson.). Tionson's pregnant wife was Uly, and they had a two year old daughter. At first I thought that Langa might be a sister to either Tionson or Uly, or possibly the widow of the man who was killed and whose bed I was in. But both guesses were wrong. After some time I eventually pieced together the story.

In late summer, several of the tribes gather together for several days to trade, to tell stories, to share new techniques for hunting, and to find wives and husbands. Since so many of the members of the tribes are related, this is a way to keep from having to mate with siblings or cousins. Tionson and Langa were bonded then she returned with him. But by the time of the next summer meeting, she had not gotten pregnant, so he took Uly as his first wife, making Langa the second wife. Uly became pregnant almost immediately, had a daughter, and was pregnant again.

So Langa was relegated to second class status. She pulled her weight as far as cooking, gathering grains and roots, and cleaning and tanning the fresh hides. But she was more like a servant than a wife to Tionson. And only when Uly was pregnant and close to term did Tionson have sex with her, to satisfy his needs.

As time went on, more and more she was ordered to bring my food and water to me. At first it was only because she was ordered to, but because I smiled at her, and spoke to her, did she begin to stay longer, which suited both Tionson and Uly, except when she was expected to wait on them. Langa wasn't what might be considered as pretty, but she was pleasant enough to look at. Like the others, she had pale skin, long brownish blonde hair, and brown eyes, and was about 5' 4”, average for women of the time.

 

 

 


	3. 2

**2**

 

But I've gotten ahead of myself. After everyone had eaten and settled down for the night, I just listened – babies crying, children sleeping, a few couples having sex, men and women snoring. Sometime in the night, the wind picked up and I could hear blowing ice and snow. By the time daylight began to creep around the front opening it was a full on blizzard. The winds were 50 to 60 mph, with gusts up to about 80.

Slowly the day began for everyone. And being used to such sudden changes in the weather, everyone had tasks. Some men worked on making flint knives and spear points. Others, along with their wives, were repairing fishing nets made of plant fibers twisted and knotted. Women were instructing daughters how to prepare and to cook various plants and meats. Stories were told by older men to younger children, mostly hunting stories, with added instructions on how to stalk and to take down various animals – antelope, deer, bison, mammoths, and water fowl.

I didn't have anything to do, but because of the bad weather, I wasn't made to leave, which I may have had to do if the day broke with clear skies. The blizzard lasted for three days. And during that time I was mostly ignored, except for being brought food by Langa twice a day – mostly some kind of stew, with the skull of some animal used as a bowl, with a spoon made of a hollowed piece of dried wood.

I noticed that by the end of the second day, the small irritations people normally ignored from their children, became a bit more irritating, so I decided to try to make some kind of distraction – by juggling fist-sized stones. I casually went to the communal fire and started picking over the heating stones – put into the fire then dropped into bowls of water with herbs added to make a kind of tea, and to cook the stews.

I found six of them I liked, then I knelt down put five of them on the floor next to me. I started tossing one into the air with my right hand and catching it with my left, passed it to my right hand, and tossed it up again. Next I picked up a second one with my left hand, and continued on, making them travel in a circle. Then I picked up a third one, circling them, then changing into a figure eight pattern.

By now everyone was watching, the children seemed the most intrigued. Just as soon as I picked up the fourth one I changed from the figure eight pattern to throwing them straight up – numbers one and three, then numbers two and four, alternately. Then I went back to the circular pattern again.

But when I picked up number five I went back to the figure eight pattern, and kept it up when I picked up number six. Then after a dozen rounds, one by one, I put them back down on the floor until I was back to just one again. And it certainly made a positive impression. Several of the children, then all of them, picked up stones and tried, and failed. Either they were throwing too hard, or didn't have the control for more than two of them.

“You practice much with one,” I told them, still using the broken language. “When two is easy, then three.”

With something new to distract the children and teens, the adults could be more relaxed. Ivorson smiled at me, and nodded his thanks.

The next morning the storm had passed, but it was still well below freezing even though it was clear and sunny. There were snowdrifts everywhere, but the ground had been swept clean by the winds. Everyone was outside, and the front flap was open, allowing the lodge to air out. And I decided it was time for me to earn my keep. I got the two long poles I used for the travois and my spear. I went up to Ivorson and Avila, and said simply, “I find food.”

They didn't say anything as I headed back in the direction I had come from. I suspect they never expected me to find anything, and probably hoping I wouldn't be back. Once I made the turn and was out of sight, I put out my hand and in seconds I was holding my Hammer. I looped the strap around my hand, gave it a couple of spins and I was airborne.

From a few hundred feet up, I spotted a herd of bison about three days walk from the camp. I headed that way, landed and threw my spear from a hundred yards away, and killed a half-grown male. Then flying to it, and chasing the rest of the herd away, I picked it up on my shoulders, and again I was flying until I was about a thousand yards from the camp.

And since I didn't want to get back after only being gone an hour, I once again took to the air. This time I went a few miles up and headed south until I was over central Africa, then headed west, circling the planet. From the height I was flying, I could see that most of the ice was in the northern hemisphere where most of the land was. The southern half of the planet was mainly ocean, with the ice mainly concentrated over the south pole. There was no ice at all over southern Africa, South America (except over the Andes Mountains), or Australia. I also spied many small tribes of both men and Neanderthals.

 Coming back to the dead bison, I threw Moljnir up to land on a high outcrop, then I put the ends of the travois on my shoulders and began my walk back to the camp. About halfway back I ran into Ivorson and several other men, hunting as I was. I explained the bison must have gotten lost from its herd during the storm. The seemed to believe it, and on the way back they traded off dragging the load. But it took two of them, one on each pole to drag it. At that I got several almost suspicious looks from some of them, Ivorson included, about how easily I was able to shoulder the load. But when we got back to camp, no one seemed to care – they once again had fresh meat.

That night, as what had become a regular thing, Langa brought me my share of the food. Then she knelt down not too far from me as I ate. Earlier I noticed Tionson and Ivorson talking, with glances at me and at Langa. Then I realized what the conversation was about – Langa was to be mine as long as I was here, if I wanted her. And to more or less, seal the deal, I offered her a piece of the cooked liver. She hesitated, then accepted it.

And as everyone settled down for the night, I lay down on my bed, then raised the bearskin cover, inviting her to join me, which she didn't hesitate to do. At first we only lay still next to each other, getting used to each other. Then she slowly began to unfasten the leather cords holding her top and bottom clothes together. When she was naked, she began to do the same for mine.

She managed to roll onto her back and pulled me on top of her, spreading her legs inviting me in. I entered her, feeling her pleasure as I did, I don't know how long it had been for her. I began slowly, and only increased my speed to keep pace with Langa. I suspect most of the time whichever men she had been with, pumped as fast as they could to climax as soon as they could, but I kept the steady pace, feeling her passion building higher and higher. She involuntarily began the moans and small screams as her orgasm approached. Then I felt her l her legs go around my ass, locking her ankles, making sure I couldn't withdraw. And just as she climaxed, I released myself, bringing her the pleasure she had been without for so long.

I continued to slide in and out of her, gradually slowing down until we both were still, and I felt her ankles separate and her legs slip down. But I kept the erection, I do have a certain amount of self control, sexually. And a while after she fell asleep I slowly began to begin again. And she woke up moving in rhythm with me. And for the second time her moans and squeals were probably heard by anyone still awake. And for the second time, her orgasm and mine coincided.

Afterward, she seemed a bit unsettled, then asked me, “You weren't satisfied the first time?”

I smiled and answered, “It was so good, I had to do it again.”

 This satisfied her and she fell asleep. This time I let the erection subside, allowing her vaginal muscles to squeeze me out, and I let myself go to sleep (I don't need the 8 or more hours of sleep humans need. I can easily go a week or more). The next morning, while it was still dark and before anyone was stirring, Langa woke up, lying in my arms. I felt her fingers slowly caress my face and lips. Next she put one of my hands on her crotch and closed her legs as she began stroking my penis.

“Again?” she asked hopefully.

In answer, I rolled onto my back and pulled her on top of me. She sat up and guided me into her, and she began, slowly at first, but faster as her passion increased. I moved some but allowed her to go at her own speed. As she approached the orgasm, her vocalization – the moans, squeals, panting, was a bit louder until she came, and I released as the same time.

Langa's was supporting herself with her hands on my chest, fingernails digging into my chest. Slowly, as her passion subsided, she lowered herself to my chest and her legs straightened out and went between mine. I pulled the bearskin blanket back over us and began moving my hands up and down her back and ass. And she fell asleep on my chest, probably more satisfied than she had ever been in her life.

Eventually the camp began stirring, mostly the women arising to begin making breakfasts for their mates and children. Langa grabbed her clothes and went to the fire to dress. As they prepared the meals, I could hear them talking to Langa about the night, and her orgasmic noises. Many seemed to be envious of her reawakened sexual experiences.

 

 

 


	4. 3

 

**3**

 

The next thirty or forty days were mostly bad, weather-wise. Blizzards and extreme cold were constant. But this tribe was used to it and found things to keep busy – repairing nets for fishing, making spears points, teaching the younger boys what they needed to hunt. The women taught daughters to cook, to repair clothes, how to smoke and cure meat.

And they told stories, mainly hunting tales, designed to entertain and to instruct the older boys things they would need to know to take down game – bison, antelope, mammoths, and the best way to kill animals that would hunt _them_ – hyenas, cave lions, cave bears, wolves, and other predator animals.

But eventually, with the extended bad weather, people would get cross with each other. Arguments between men and their mates, unruly children, the usual. So I decided they needed something besides juggling (which very few mastered, and then got tired of it). So I used one of my travois poles, still green, and slowly bent it into an open U shape. I used strong sinew to keep it from straightening out. I then tied sinews of various thicknesses about a finger's width apart.

I was making a kind of harp, or lyre. Each sinew was tied on a bit tighter, and eventually had ten strings, sounding from a low bass to higher, alto sound. Before I was finished, almost everyone was watching, curious. They did use bones as 'musical' drums during rituals used by the medicine man. And they chanted. But when I was finished, I strummed it, tuning it, and then picked the strings until I was able to play the tune of a song I had learned when I was a young boy. And I hummed along with it.

It wasn't long before others copied what I had, some trying to force wooden sticks, that were too dry and broke. One or two had the idea to string sinew between the tines of elk antlers. Which worked but made higher tones since they were closer together. But it kept many of the busy, making them, then trying to make music. One young woman had the idea to tie the sinews over a deer skull bowl, giving somewhat resonant sound.

Most of the winter was spent much like the above. There were days when it was clear, and we went on short hunting trips. Though we rarely found any game, it mostly was a excuse to get out of the close quarters of the over-sized tent. Eventually the blizzards began to lessen, and with the first rain, there was a celebration to welcome the beginnings of Spring.

On one of the early Spring hunting trips, I brought back some green branches about the length of my arm and about the size of my wrist. I made sure each one had a small limb coming off one side. As everyone watched, I cut about halfway through the end opposite the small limb, then split the branch from one end to the cut end. I then made a groove along the length of. I split the piece that came off into two pieces, rounded them and whittled points on one end of each one.

Outside, I threw one of the short spears about 25 yards. I then fitted the second spear into the groove, held the end with my thumb, then threw the spear in the new spear thrower. It went almost 50 yards. And so for the next 10 days or so, everyone was busy making their own spear throwers and spears. Many were longer, with heavier spears, and flint spear points added. Days were spent practicing, and improving, and still practicing. And when the first young antelope was taken down with one of them, they all knew I had, again, brought a new idea to increase their survival. I only explained that it was something some of the hunters of “my tribe” had been working on.

The days warmed, the Spring floods came, leaving many dead animal carcasses to be butchered. It also brought out the prey animals – big cats, bears, wolves and hyenas.

Langa and I often went off by ourselves, she looked for berries, herbs and other plants that were used for food and for medicines. I was along for protection. Then one day, a couple hundred yards from the camp, we came across and place with a nice beach next to a wide spot in the river we were following. The water wasn't flowing particularly fast – the perfect spot to go swimming.

I didn't hesitate to strip down naked and went into the water up to my knees, expecting Langa to follow. But she didn't. I could tell, being that this was the first time she had ever seen me naked, she liked what she saw, but was afraid of the water.

“Don't be afraid,” I told her. “You have nothing to be scared of. I will never let anything happen to you.”

Slowly she took her clothes off, a bit shy and still a bit afraid. But she did like the approving look I was giving to her nakedness. When she got to the edge of the water I put my hand out and she gingerly stepped into the slightly still cold water. I led her out until she was up to her waist, and taking both hands, we went out until the water was just under her breasts.

“You can float, you know,” I told her. “Take a deep breath and hold it; you won't sink.”

I put one hand at her waist and gently picked her up until she was horizontal, one hand under her butt and the other under her back. Then I moved her around until she found she liked it. I moved one hand under her waist and took the other one away. After a while I turned her over on her belly, told her to straighten out her legs, point her toes, and to kick; I was going to teach her how to swim.

I then showed her how to move her arms, cupping her hands, to the side. I showed her how to hold her breath and to blow air out of her nose when she went under the water. After a couple of hours we went back to shore and lay down on our fur clothes. I kissed her a few times and she spread her legs, inviting me in, and I crawled on top of her, ready to penetrate her.

“Not yet,” I told her. “We have been doing it as your tribe does. Now I will show you how the men and women in my tribe make love.”

I began kissing her mouth, then moved to her neck, kissing and nibbling it. I slowly moved down her body, stopping at her breasts, exciting and sucking her nipples, feeling the passion rising in her. I moved down to her navel, my tongue circling it, then slowly down until I was at her crotch. I don't think the men of this tribe engaged in oral sex – she seemed surprised when I lifted her legs until her knees were at her chest and I began licking and sucking her clit, and then I entered her with the full length of my tongue. Her moaning turned to whimpers and panting, and then she began to beg me to enter her. I did, but kept her ankles on my shoulders. She had two orgasms – one with the oral sex and one with the actual fucking.

When it was over, she fell asleep almost immediately. I let her sleep a couple hours while I went back into the river to swim. I gently woke her and we went back into the water. But while we were there four hyenas ran up, looking for a meal. Langa was obviously scared – our spears were with our clothes. But we were safe as long as we were in the water. But they began to chew on our furs.

I waded toward shore until I was at my waist, bent down and picked up a half dozen fist sized stones and began to throw them at the hyenas. Obviously I could have killed them with one stone each, but not in front of Langa. But I threw enough of them and just hard enough that they soon tired of being hit so many times and they ran off. We quickly dressed and headed back to the camp. That night Langa told her women friends about learning to hold her breath and to swim, and the new and exciting way I made love to her. And she told everyone about how I drove off the hyenas with only river stones.

Since the new spear thrower made hunting so much more productive, we all had more time, so every few days Langa and I would go back to our spot to swim and to make love. But it wasn't very long before others decided they wanted to come with us. Eventually almost a dozen men, women, older and younger children were accompanying us, which ended our sex.

There was to be another multi-tribe meeting in early Fall, so everyone was stockpiling furs, dried meats and grains for gifts to be exchanged. They were especially excited to be able to share the new spear throwers, the music makers and for a few, to show off their juggling skills. And there was the expected meeting of prospective mates. So it was decided that one final group expedition, consisting of the entire tribe, to hunt bison, and if they were lucky, a mammoth, to take to the meeting as a special gift. I had no idea it meant that soon I would end up having to leave the tribe, and Langa.

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

**4**

 

Before we left, the medicine man piled the skulls of various animals at the entrance in a pyramid, the top skull being a human one, without the lower jaw. This was to keep others, superstitious strangers, from entering the lodge, thinking the spirits of the dead were keeping watch over it. We left just at daybreak, heading north, following the river, where the bison would be grazing on the midsummer grasses. For two days we traveled, finding some small game, more for practice with the spear throwers that for the need for food. The landscape gradually changed from mostly grasslands to grasslands dotted with stands of trees – pines, oaks, beeches and yew.

Runners were sent ahead to scout for signs of the bison, and on the third day they returned with news that a herd was only a half day away. Not wanting to arrive at sunset, we camped where we were with plans to break camp while it was still dark to get as close as possible as early as possible. But during the night, the herd had actually moved in our direction, so the sun was barely a quarter high in the sky when we began to hear the bellows of the males and the bleating of the younger ones. Although the wind was coming mostly from the north, keeping our scent from the herd, occasionally it would shift from the east, west, and from the south. This caused some unrest with the herd. Obviously they had been hunted by other humans. But there was one other animal that evidently had bad encounters with hunters.

Just as we were preparing to leave, there was a faint throbbing felt in the ground, and the sounds of an enraged mammoth reached us. It wasn't long before it was seen in the distance, heading our way, in a dead run. Immediately, the hunters put themselves between the approaching animal and the women and children. Many of then got into the river, hoping the mammoth wouldn't go after them there.

I knew that many of the hunters were about to die, as well as the others. And I knew I had to do something. So I picked up the largest spear I could find, and jumped thirty feet over the tribe to put myself between all of them and the mammoth. And to them it looked as if I had flown. But as the enraged mammoth grew closer, I realized the only way I could kill it with the spear was for it to go into one of its eyes to its brain. But it was shaking his head so much there was no way I could have made the shot. And I knew there was only one other solution. And even as I put out my hand for the Hammer, I knew I would be leaving.

It took less than two seconds for the Hammer to find my hand. By now the animal was less than fifty yards away, and I threw it. It didn't spin or tumble, but traveled straight. And when it hit the mammoth squarely between the eyes, it was as if the animal had run headlong into a cliff then bounced back several feet. The Hammer crushed its skull, and the neck was broken; it died immediately. Then the Hammer returned to my hand, the bits of skull and hide and blood falling from it (nothing will stick to it).

When it fell, it fell straight down, but the easiest way to butcher it was for it to be on its side, allowing easier access to its internal organs by cutting it open from anus to neck. The tribe had several ropes, made from twisted fibers and tendons and ligaments, about a big around as your thumb. I took three of them and looped them under the front and back legs on one side, and I took them in my hand, forming a triangle. Then swinging the Hammer slowly by its strap, I flew up into the air, pulling the animal over until it was on its side. Then I landed behind it.

 I next went to Ivorson and asked for his flint bladed knife. It was a special one, longer and heavier than usual, used for the first cut on any mammoth they were lucky enough to kill. I then ran its sharpened sides alongside the Hammer, changing its molecular structure to make it as hard as any future hardened steel, and would retain its edge for years without breaking.

I then went to the mammoth and slit it open from end to end, allowing the entrails to spill out. I tossed the knife back to Ivorson, who then directed the men to began the butchering. In the meantime, some of the women began erecting tripods made of saplings stripped of their limbs, then tied ropes between them, and piled hardwood underneath the ropes, done so the meat could be smoked and dried. Others began surrounding the mammoth and the campsite with pine saplings and limbs to light at dark to keep hyenas, wild dogs and various wild cats from getting to the animal, and the people. I helped by using the Hammer to fell larger pine trees and drag them in place.

It didn't take long for the predator animals to get the scent of blood and to look for ways in. In some instances they would snarl and attack each other. I jumped on top of the mammoth, raised the Hammer high to absorb the electrical energy in the air, then turning in a circle I ignited the pines, and at the same time, the piles of wood for the meat.

The animals were kept at bay, but now the tribe members were more wary and afraid of me, now thoroughly convinced I was some kind of spirit or god. I went to a tree stump well away from the rest of them, to give them a bit of peace of mind so they could do the work they had to do. Later as the butchering was almost done and the evening meal of mammoth was ready, Langa tentatively approached with a wooden platter with cooked liver and heart for me. I took the offering only with the condition she sit with me and we share it. We ate in silence, but I could tell she was uneasy even after all the days and nights we'd spent together. I knew she wanted to say something but was unable to get it out.

Finally, I said, “Langa, is there something you want to say? You should know by now you can tell me anything. Or ask me anything.”

After several hesitations she said quietly, so quietly that if my hearing wasn't exceptional I would have thought she was whispering to herself. “Ivorson wanted me to ask … I mean, he wants to know .. I want … we all want to know if you are a – a spirit from another world.”

I chuckled, knowing that “another world” meant the world of the dead.

“No, I am not a spirit,” I answered. “I am just a man, but I **am** from another world. I'll tell you what, when we have finished eating, I will explain to everyone.”

Langa barely nodded, and we finished the meal in silence. When it was over, I left the Hammer and went to the large communal fire where everyone was gathered, and celebrating the kill. But not as exuberantly as if the mammoth had been killed by conventional means. Suddenly everyone went silent.

“I understand there are questions about who I am, and where I came from,” I began, turning slowly to look at everyone. “First of all, I am not a spirit. I am a man much like all of you, almost. Just like you all are men and women and children of this world, I am a man from another world.”

I hesitated, wondering just how much I should tell them; how much they would believe. I decided to tell them almost all of it.

“I know you all often study the stars overhead, wondering what they are. Well, they are suns just like the one that rises and sets every day. But they look like points of light because they are so far away. Most of the stars have worlds they shine down on. Most of these worlds are either much to hot, or much too cold, and you would die there almost immediately. But some have worlds similar to this one. And some of those worlds have men living on them, some look like you, some don't.”

I stopped there, to allow this to sink in, and wondering how many of them actually believed me. Then I continued.

“My world is very much like this one, just not as cold during the winter.”

I stopped again, then went on, changing the subject.

 “There are some of you, in this tribe and in others, who are curious, who want to know what lies over the next hill, or where a river goes, or where it begins. And some people on my world are like that. But my world has been traveled over and there is nothing new to see. So they decided to search out other worlds to explore. And this is one such world. I came here for that reason, and decided to stay, for a while, to learn what I could, and to get to know some of the people living here. And that is why I joined your tribe.”

At this point a pack of wolves began to face off hyenas, still not wanting to share the bounty behind the line of fiery timbers. I put out my hand and the Hammer flew to it, I raised it up, then down, and sent a bit of electricity along the perimeter to reignite the trees, running off the animals. I then set it down to continue on another subject.

“And I assume you all are curious about my Hammer. Just like your spears and knives and spear throwers are tools of your world, my Hammer is a tool of my world. And one day, many years from now, perhaps this world will also have tools such as this.”

At this point I decided they had been told enough, any more and they might start to believe I was telling untrue stories to maybe frighten them. I started back to my spot when several of the braver preteens slowly got closer to it, daring each other to touch it, or to pick it up. Smiling, I went back to them.

“Would you like to touch it?” I asked them. “It won't hurt you.”

One of the older ones, Norvoson, reached out and touched the end of the handle with one finger. He drew it back, then touched it again, keeping his finger on it.

“It hums!” he exclaimed. “Touch it,” he said to the others. “Touch it!”

One by one they did, each agreeing it hummed.

“Would you like to pick it up?” I asked.

Again Norvoson was the one to try, several times, but he failed to even budge it.

“Only I can pick it up,” I explained. “It was made for me and only I can control it. It is as if a spear was made especially for you, and only you could throw it hard enough and straight enough to make the kill.”

It was late and although no one wanted to sleep, the next day would be almost as busy, packing up this temporary camp in preparation for taking the butchered mammoth meat, head and tusks back to their main camp. So they began to bed down for the night.

I walked over to Langa. “Will you sleep with me tonight?”

She tentatively nodded, not feeling as safe with me as she had before. I took her hand and we went to where my things were. I picked them up and together we walked away from the crowd; I wanted privacy.

“It will be all right,“ I told her, sensing her uneasiness. “Tomorrow I will have to leave. If I stay your people will expect me to provide for them and to protect them. This cannot happen.”

That night we had sex three times. The first time with me on top, the second time from behind, with her on her knees, and in the morning with her straddling me. She had orgasms each time, which I'm sure most of the camp heard.

The next morning, before everyone started loading each travois, there were almost a dozen of them, I spoke to them. “I cannot return with you; I am leaving to go back to my home. If I stay you will expect me to provide and to protect you. And this will make you too comfortable, and weak, and unable to provide for yourselves.”

I took a breath, then continued: “I cannot say if I will ever visit again. But I want you to know that I have given you one more gift – Langa is carrying my child; a son.

“How can this be?” Langa blurted out. “I – I cannot have children. Tionson and I....”

“I am not Tionson,” I replied, cutting her off. “I am Thor, and I have given you a child. This will be the only one you will have, so you must protect it.”

I turned to Ivorson. “The child will not have my – unusual abilities, but with your teachings and guidance he will one day will lead your people to become more than just a small family unit of hunters. Other tribes will respect and seek out his council.”

It didn't seem necessary to tell them that my and Langa's son would never suffer from illnesses and infirmaries that others of this world do. Or that he would probably live to twice the age of them. Or that the genes he passed down would do much to continue the survival of the species.

I looked around one more time, making eye contact with each of them, smiled at Langa, then without another word, I spun the Hammer by its strap, grabbed the handle, and then I was airborne, heading back to the place where I would be transported back to my home world – to the highest point on this planet, the place that one day it would be called Mt. Everest. And as I was leaving them, I realized that when I returned to Earth (as I had all intentions of doing someday) any future relationships I would make would be fleeting and temporary.

 

 


	6. 5

 

**5**

 

It took but seconds for me to arrive at my destination. The weather wasn't as fierce as when we six arrived, one of the rare days with no blizzard, but still with a strong wind. I raised my Hammer on high, allowing it to absorb as many of the free electrons as possible, and when it had reached its capacity, a signal was sent through the “aether” to Heimdallr, who is the Watcher of the Nine Worlds, and who controls the machinery that produces the transportation passage that would bring me home. It is known to you as an Einstein-Rosen Bridge, or if you prefer, a worm hole. The Vikings named it the Bifrost, or Rainbow Bridge.

Unlike the rest of us, Heimdallr, doesn't have the full name that indicates his parentage. Like many of us, Heimdallr is an Odin.son. But who his mother is remains a mystery. He is often called the Son of the Nine Mothers, or of the Nine Sisters, whose names are Gjalp, Greip, Eistla, Angeia, Ulfrún, Eyrgjafa, Imðr, Atla, and Jarnsaxa.

Odin visited one of them (or perhaps all of them), resulting in a pregnancy. But none would confess who gave birth to Heimdallr.

 

There is a very old poem that tells of his birth:

    There was one born, in times of old,
    From the gracious god, nine Jötun maids gave birth
    at the world's margin.
    Giâlp gave him birth, Greip gave him birth,
    Eistla gave him birth, and Angeia;
    Ulfrûn gave him birth, and Eyrgiafa,
    Imor and Atla, and Jarnsaxa.
    The boy was nourished with the strength
    of Odin's blood.  
  


    
    
    Jöntun is one of the Nine Worlds. And because his mother was not known, Heimdallr was not given his full name, and was treated differently from the rest of us. Taking pity on him, once he was grown, Odin put him in charge of safely sending and returning our explorers on our various journeys.
    
    
    
    While waiting, I found I was eagerly anticipating seeing once again the Asgardian woman I had exceptionally strong feelings for, and was expected to eventually mate with - Sifmandilifaridaughterhrethadaughter. (Sif.mandilifari.daughter.hretha.daughter) But you call her (Lady) Sif. But even so, I was also anticipating my next journey to Earth.
    
    
    
    After I arrived at Asgard, I, as required, related all that had happened to me, and it was recorded in the ever expanding “Exploration Data Base”.
    
    
    And one final note – The Nine Worlds of Asgard occasionally changes, depending on the fates of each world, whether it is destroyed by its own hand, or is banished for whatever reason. Eventually, Earth becomes one of the Nine.
    
    
    ****
    ****
    **To Be Continued – Someday**

 

 


End file.
